


Assume the Position

by songlin



Category: Kingsman: The Secret Service (2015)
Genre: Aftercare, BDSM, Bottom Harry, Caning, Dom Eggsy, M/M, Roleplay, Sub Harry, Teacher/Student Roleplay, Top Eggsy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-12
Updated: 2015-06-12
Packaged: 2018-04-04 01:12:28
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,552
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4120863
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/songlin/pseuds/songlin
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"I'm not going to go easy on you, considering the circumstances. The only way to prevent this kind of activity in future is to instill better self-control."</p>
            </blockquote>





	Assume the Position

**Author's Note:**

> The Kingsman smut trashfest continues...
> 
> So, V (currently merteuille on Tumblr) were discussing whether Harry went to Eton or Cambridge (yeah, yeah, good arguments have been made for Winchester) when I found a golden tidbit about the use of corporal punishment at Eton. I did some math, and found that Harry would've gone to school there while they were still using it, and if he was the teensiest bit older he'd have been there when _fellow students_ were still administering it, and...long story short, it was decided that Harry has a caning kink. Then this happened.
> 
>  **Some notes on the activities in this fic:** As ever, if you would like to try this at home, do so carefully! At the bottom of the fic I'll link some good resources I found while researching.
> 
> Also, sex between a headmaster and a pupil, if it were happening outside of roleplay, would be unbelievably nonconsensual. Luckily, Eggsy is not actually Harry's headmaster, and neither of them is under the age of consent. All the same, tread with care and take care of your mental health!

This is ridiculous.

It's insane. It's absolutely the maddest thing Harry's ever done, and yet even as he's sitting down across the desk from Eggsy, he's already getting hard.

Eggsy's wearing his suit and glasses (not broadcasting, of course) and is sitting back in Harry's—in _the_ chair. His legs are crossed and his expression is serious, save for the smallest spark of mischief in his eyes.

On the desk between the two of them is a long, thin, rattan cane.

Harry takes a deep breath and runs a quick systems check _(my name is Harry Hart, codename Arthur, I am fifty-four years of age, I am in my office at my home with Eggsy Unwin, this is playacting, just a fantasy, my safeword is "Tibet")_ and then raises his chin.

Eggsy catches the signal and proceeds.

"Mr. Hart," he says sternly.

All trace of South London has been scrubbed from Eggsy's accent and replaced with the kind of posh inflection that gets made fun of on comedy sketch shows. God, just that is enough to make the hair on the back of Harry's neck stand up. It's instinct more than acting that makes his eyes slide down and away.

"Yes, sir."

Did he mean for his voice to come out quite so weak and nervous-sounding? He's not sure.

"I've heard some unpleasant stories about you of late." Eggsy leans forward very slightly and lays his hands flat on the desk. "Care to explain?"

Harry has to clear his throat before he can speak. "Sorry, sir?"

Eggsy lets his head tilt just to the side. "Mr. Hart. Your house master has approached me. He is concerned about the frequency with which you have been sending your bedclothes to laundry. If you would kindly tell me why."

It's a command, not an invitation. Harry's cock twitches.

"I'm sorry, sir," he says, eyes still downcast. "It's just...been different, lately."

"Go on," Eggsy says lazily.

Harry is blushing. God, it's not as if this is the first time he's told Eggsy all this, but he's still blushing like a fucking schoolboy.

Of course, that's rather the point of this whole scenario.

"I just…I've had…feelings. Sir."

Eggsy raises an eyebrow. "Feelings? How?"

Harry could sink under the table. Also, he is hard enough to pop his trousers. He squirms in his seat and looks away.

"Well, you know how things get at a certain age, sir. You get…thoughts."

Harry steals a glance at Eggsy, who is raising his eyebrows and twisting up his mouth in an expression that implies stern disapproval.

"Well," he says, as if that sums up the entire situation. "Continue, Mr. Hart."

Harry is fidgeting with his fingers in his lap. His heart is hammering in his ears.

"I don't do it all the time!" he says hastily. "I don't do...that. I just…wake up, and find I'm…compromised. I have to make it go away."

He swallows back an actual moan at the end of that. There is no way he is making it through this without coming all over his pants, or the desk, or a little of both.

Eggsy tuts and shakes his head, which makes blood rush to Harry's groin in a way he'd expected and yet underestimated. This had been part of the plan, after all, one of the things Harry had mentioned when Eggsy asked him for more detail about this particular fantasy. Eggsy had leapt at the chance to play headmaster. He's certainly enjoying it now.

"I'm afraid that's quite serious, Mr. Hart," Eggsy says. "Quite serious indeed. It calls for at least five strokes. I'm not going to go easy on you, considering the circumstances. The only way to prevent this kind of activity in future is to instill better self-control."

Harry flushes. "Yes, sir."

Eggsy nods towards the desk. "Assume the position, Mr. Hart."

Harry shuts his eyes, braces his hands against the table, ducks under it, and lets the crown of his head rest against the hard wood just under the desk's edge. He's held there. Exposed. Vulnerable. Recalcitrant.

"Lower your trousers."

Arousal has made him clumsy, so it takes him a while to get his belt open and his trousers and pants down past his buttocks. Behind him, Eggsy picks up the cane from the desk and taps it against his hand once, then twice.

"Count them, Mr. Hart," Eggsy says.

Before the words can completely penetrate Harry's lust-thick mind, there is a quiet _thwish_ through the air and the rattan cane slaps squarely across Harry's arse. He jumps and gasps.

"Uh. One."

_Thwip_.

"Two."

_Thwip_.

"Three."

There isn't another blow for a moment. Instead, Eggsy lightly taps the cane against Harry's backside.

"Uncomfortable, Mr. Hart?"

"N-no, sir." It's a lie. He dances on the balls of his feet. If he can just squirm enough to shift some of the weight away from—

_Thwip_.

Harry grunts, more in shock than pain.

"The count, Mr. Hart." Eggsy's voice snaps out louder and sharper than the cane did.

"Four, sir. Sorry, sir." He's losing control of his speech and already babbling a little. _Yes, sir, no, sir, anything you want, sir, please just let me—_

_Thwip_.

"Five!" It comes out choked. That one hurt. It's obviously not the worst wound he's ever had visited upon him, but it crossed over one of the earlier marks. He hisses through his teeth as the pain flares from the initial sting and blossoms into a steady throb.

"Have you learnt your lesson?" Eggsy asks.

Harry squeezes his eyes shut. The back of his neck is starting to ache where the edge of the desk is digging into it. More direly, his prick is so hard it aches as he thinks about it. Hot blood rushes to his cheeks. He's afraid to tell him. Does he need to safeword? No, it's not like that. It's a delicious kind of fear still, and when Harry thinks about continuing, he's sure his limit isn't for some time yet.

"Sir," he says softly. "I'm sorry, I'm so sorry, but I've...made myself indecent again."

Eggsy sighs, resigned and put-upon. "I didn't want to have to do this, but it seems you are a unique case. Don't move an inch, Mr. Hart."

He sets the cane down on the desk beside him and leaves. He's fetching something from behind the file cabinet. Harry clenches, trying to ease the burn, but only succeeds in making it worse.

"There we are." He's back. He touches something to Harry's bum, something thin and wooden and—

Oh.

Another cane. There's another cane. Eggsy went out and found it and bought it and brought it home and hid it, all on his own, and Harry can _feel_ how much thicker it is and it hasn't even struck him yet. His breath catches in his throat.

"This is a senior cane," Eggsy says. "Normally it's only used for the most serious offenses, but given your situation, it seemed merited. Don't you think?"

An out. That's an out, his chance to safeword, go back to the other cane, or stop it completely. Does Harry want that? He hauls a part of his mind from the quiet corner it's been tucked into and cajoles it into thought. How is he? Does he hurt too badly? Is he too afraid? Can he take more?

Overall, he finds that that little piece of his mind wants nothing more than to be beaten back down into submission.

"I've never been beaten with the senior cane before," Harry says. His voice sounds very small. "Does it hurt terribly?"

"Not much," Eggsy says calmly, and then whips him right across the arse.

Harry jerks and cries out. He instinctively tries to escape, but his head tucked under the table keeps him from going anywhere fast. In quick succession, Eggsy rains down four more blows, a fine spread over Harry's entire arse, crisscrossing over other marks and making Harry sob and scream for mercy. All the while, his heart is pounding in his throat and his cock is like hot iron. He swallows and realizes he's drooling when a string of saliva stretches from his lip and breaks.

"How about that, Mr. Hart?"

Harry is too far gone to respond. He's still trying to catch his breath. Eggsy sighs and sets the cane down on the desk. In lieu of getting a proper answer, it seems he's going to find it for himself.

He reaches around and cups the hot weight of Harry's erection. It's all Harry can do not to buck into the touch, but that would certainly earn him another thrashing.

Eggsy tuts. "Seems there's nothing for it but to take care of it the old-fashioned way."

Harry blinks dully. "Sir?"

"This kind of self-abuse can be mitigated with the regular administration of service by a more responsible senior."

Harry would nod, but his head is still tucked under the table.

"Come out, but don't stand up. Place your hands flat on the desk in front of you."

Harry obeys. He lets his head rest on the cold wood. The cane is sitting just beside his left hand. He reaches out, touches it tentatively, and finds it warm to the touch.

"None of that," Eggsy scolds, and without any kind of warning, he pushes two slick fingers into Harry's arse.

Harry gasps and tries to squirm away.

"Ah-ah-ah, hold still," says Eggsy.

Normally, Eggsy takes ages with this, opening Harry up with such care and for so long that Harry's a mess by the time they get around to the proper buggery.

It was one of the first things Harry brought up when they discussed this. "I like it just fine that way," he reassured him. "Quite well, actually. Very. But I wonder what it would be like if you were...less gentle with me."

Eggsy's certainly not gentle now.

Harry is panting hot, harsh breaths into the crook of his elbow. Eggsy has only just started, and he's already withdrawing his fingers. Harry tries to breathe deeply, slowly, but behind him there's the quiet jingling sound of a belt being unfastened, followed by a zip, and Harry's heartbeat thumps faster and faster in eager anticipation.

Eggsy steps forward until his feet are on either side of Harry's. He plants one hand on Harry's arse and spreads him open. Harry can't help but stiffen and whine a little at that. It _hurts_. Eggsy's hand is square on top of the welts he raised and he's not being gentle. His other hand is pushing his cock down until it's set against Harry's hole.

Harry stops breathing.

"Good thing you've got a headmaster as sympathetic as I," Eggsy says, then brutally pushes forward, opening Harry up with his cock.

Harry's jaw drops as if forced open by the insistent press of Eggsy's prick. He gasps in a breath and can't let it out. Eggsy's in him, all the way, and it's taking up every square inch of space in Harry's body.

Eggsy flattens one hand on Harry's back. "Breathe, now, Mr. Hart." He's still telling Harry off, how is he _still_ —

Harry exhales. Eggsy's hand strokes down his spine, and the tiny reward rains showers of sensation through him.

He squeezes his eyes shut. "God, please, _please."_

Harry isn't positive, but he thinks he hears Eggsy curse under his breath. When he speaks, though, he's entirely composed.

"Please what?" Eggsy says, voice dark and low and tightly controlled.

Harry's mind scrabbles desperately for a moment before it catches on to what he needs to do, what its master wants.

"Please, _sir,"_ Harry chokes out.

He's certain he didn't imagine the hitch in Eggsy's breath then. He hasn't got enough time to gloat, though, because right away Eggsy says, "Good lad," and thrusts the smugness straight out of him.

Harry gasps. This pace is brutal, and with every plunge inwards Eggsy's hips smack against Harry's abused skin. Eggsy's hand slides up to the back of Harry's neck and holds his head down. Harry squirms, but he's utterly trapped, not just by Eggsy's body but by the stunning power of the pleasure and pain coursing through his own. He's aware he's making noises, these broken, incoherent cries with every obliterating thrust. God, how soon is he going to come? He has no idea. He's been on the verge for so long that he's forgotten how to feel the telltale signs of imminent climax. What if Eggsy comes first and leaves Harry wanting? He wouldn't, surely, never, not with Harry so hard, and _good_ , he was _so good_ , he deserves this, he wants it, he fears it. Christ, it's going to be positively apocalyptic.

Harry's too far gone to shout "please, please," but somehow Eggsy reads it in him. He had one hand on Harry's hip already. He lets it drift around and takes hold of Harry's throbbing member, and the presence and pressure is enough.

Harry whites out. He's bowled over, screaming and shaking and overcome with the force. He tries to hang onto himself, to let it go and just happen. It feels like he's floating above himself and then sucked back in by turns with every cresting wave. Eggsy is holding onto him too, finally breaking and shouting "fuck—yes, Harry—fuck," as he pounds in quickly one-two-three-four-five times and then doubles over to shout and tremble. The slap of skin on broken skin and the warm rush of semen propels Harry into another fit of shivering and whimpering on the very tail end of his orgasm.

Harry sinks down, down, and further down, all the way into blissful oblivion. Things are happening to him, outside his body, but he can't bring himself to care just yet. His eyes are shut. He's comfortable, although his arse is on fire with pain. Someone's hands are on him. Someone else is managing the conscious thinking and acting and all that, so he lets them carry on and lets the white noise in his head drown out everything else.

Gradually, the white noise fades, and Harry emerges.

When he finally opens his eyes, he finds himself in his bed. Eggsy is lying next to him, looking at him and smiling.

"Welcome back," he says.

He sounds properly himself again. Well. Maybe not "proper."

Harry shuts his eyes again. "Mm."

"You all right there?"

Harry grumbles and rubs his face into the pillow.

"What's that, now?"

"Your headmaster patter is off."

"Well, we can't all of us go to Eton."

Eggsy carefully runs a finger over one of the marks on Harry's arse. Harry hisses in a breath.

"I've put some arnica on that," Eggsy says. "You'll be right bruised tomorrow, but it's nothin' won't heal up."

"Take photos," Harry mumbles. "For the before and after."

"Done and done." Eggsy nestles in closer and noses at Harry's cheek. "But really," he says softly. "You _are_ okay, though?"

Harry makes himself think it over.

His arse is aching. But he's clean, he's warm, he's comfortable, and someone is looking at him—looking _after_ him—with such tenderness that it makes his chest feel tight.

So Harry smiles.

"Never better," he says.

He waits until Eggsy settles back onto the bed before smirking and quietly adding, "Sir."

**Author's Note:**

> Best guide: http://www.uberkinky.co.uk/essential-guides/impact-play-guides/beginners-guide-to-caning.html  
> Video guide: https://youtu.be/tGgAduyJC18  
> Practical tips: http://www.evilmonk.org/a/canenote.cfm  
> Caning-specific aftercare: http://www.submissiveguide.com/2011/10/first-aid-for-bruises-abrasions-and-other-after-play-marks/


End file.
